


Exile by Madison

by sgamadison



Series: The Cabin Series [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:58:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted to be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exile by Madison

Exile by [Madison](viewuser.php?uid=1593) [NC-17]  
**Summary:** He just wanted to be alone.

**Categories:** [Slash Pairings](browse.php?type=categories&id=3) &gt; [McKay/Sheppard](browse.php?type=categories&id=11)  
**Characters:** [John Sheppard](browse.php?type=characters&charid=7), [Rodney McKay](browse.php?type=characters&charid=12)  
**Genres:** [Angst](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=3), [Established Relationship](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=9)  
**Warnings:** [Adult themes](browse.php?type=class&type_id=2&classid=23)  
**Chapters:** 1 [[Table of Contents](viewstory.php?sid=14203&index=1)]  
**Series:** [The Cabin Series](viewseries.php?seriesid=205)

Word count: 3583; Completed: Yes  
[](viewstory.php?action=printable&sid=14203&textsize=0&chapter=1)  
[-](viewstory.php?sid=14203&chapter=1&textsize=-1) **Text Size** [+](viewstory.php?sid=14203&chapter=1&textsize=1)

 

> **Story Notes:**  
>  A little birthday ficlet for the_cephalopod. I tried to include all her favorite elements! Hope you had a great b-day, honey--you deserve it! :- )Written response to the news of the series cancellation.

 

* * *

>   
> Rodney paused for a moment during his scurry outside to grab more firewood to look out over the stark landscape of snow and ice. The cabin was in a small bowl of open land, surrounded on three sides by forest and a panoramic view of mountains in front. To his right, the small pond where he and Jeannie had skated as children was powdered over with fresh snow, only an indentation in the ground to indicate where it was. To his left, the battered maroon Land Rover was parked, snow up to the hubcaps, heaped up on the windshield and roof, a good four inches of new snow today. In the morning he should really go dig it out, just in case. The snow had tapered off with the gathering dusk, falling in light, gentle flakes like the inside of a child's toy. The pink of the emerging sunset touched the ice-limed branches with a lavender, crystalline glow that made his eyes water. The air was so cold that every breath hurt, like a sharp knife being eased in and out of his lungs. He shuddered down into his sweater, wondering if he'd ever be warm again.
> 
> He needed a cat, he thought suddenly, deciding to add it to the list. Surely the next time he went into town, someone would have a cat or a kitten they didn't want anymore. One that would otherwise be kicked out to fend for itself or be put down. That's what he needed.
> 
> He had just stacked up an armload of wood, regretting suddenly the sweater as the bark stuck to the brown wool and reminding himself in the future to put on a jacket for this sort of thing, when he heard the engine. After days of a silence so profound he thought it might make him insane, the engine seemed loud and noisy, an intruder. For an instant, he realized how isolated he was out here and not for the first time in his life, he was afraid. But then memory kicked in and he knew he was a lot tougher than the small boy who used to come here camping with his family. Replacing the wood in the pile, he stood in the doorway of the cabin. The shotgun was within reach if he needed it. The idea that he could have ever become comfortable with weapons at all made a small surge of bile rise up in his throat, but he swallowed the bitter gorge and waited.
> 
> A bright red Jeep Wrangler cut through the landscape like a splash of blood on the snow, wallowing a bit in the heavy drifts but being expertly steered towards the cabin. Death hardly seemed like it would arrive in such a cheerful carriage and something in Rodney's chest caught and stuttered for a moment, an instant of hope that he ruthlessly squashed. He watched silently as the vehicle came to a stop behind the Land Rover. On top of the Jeep, an aggressively yellow kayak was strapped, along with several pairs of skis. The interior of the car seemed to be packed with supplies; the driver lifted a hand in a small wave and then began pulling off gloves and shades. It was John.
> 
> He stepped out of the Jeep like he'd been coming to the cabin his whole life, sparing a moment for an appreciative glance around at the surroundings before going to the rear door of the vehicle and grabbing several grocery bags, shutting the door with a crisp slam of sound that made Rodney flinch. He waded through the snow towards the stairs, long and lean and looking deadly in a black ski pants and parka, the hood of which was lined with some sort of wolf-like fur which stood out in startling contrast to the black nylon. As he climbed the stairs towards Rodney, bags balanced in each arm, Rodney could see the several days old beard, nearly black as well, and a pang of longing shot through him as he realized how well it suited John.
> 
> "Hey, Rodney," John said, when it became apparent that Rodney was not stepping aside. He stood patiently, his head at a slight angle, the familiar half-smile in place.
> 
> Rodney said the first thing that came to mind. "That'd better not be _real_ wolf fur on that parka."
> 
> "No, not _real_ fur, that'd be cruel," John fired back with a sly grin and Rodney knew he was remembering the night they both got hammered and listened to the Bare Naked Ladies Greatest Hits on the pier. They'd played the music so loud someone finally complained and Elizabeth had radioed John to seek out the perpetrators and tell them to keep it down. They'd snickered about that one for months, Rodney humming _If I had a Million Dollars_ every time Elizabeth had entered a room.
> 
> "What are you doing here, Colonel?" Rodney made his voice as cold and harsh as he knew how when he was bleeding inside.
> 
> "What do you think, McKay?" John matched him in form of address, but not in tone. "I came to see you. You're not making me very welcome."
> 
> "No, I'm not." Rodney said shortly, folding his arms against the cold and trying not to visibly shudder.
> 
> "Too bad," John said in a slightly sing-song tone and began to push past him into the cabin.
> 
> Rodney slammed his arm down across the doorway like a toll booth. "I don't want you here. So you can just climb back into the bright red little deathtrap of yours and drive yourself right back into town."
> 
> For the briefest of moments, a hurt look crossed John's face and then he said with a drawl, "Look, McKay. It's nearly dark. I've been driving for eleven hours. I got lost three times on the way down, okay? You don't want me here; fine. I'll leave in the morning."
> 
> They stood that way for a long moment, John patiently waiting him out, holding the bags of groceries while Rodney continued to block his entrance to the cabin, the warm plumes of their breath curling around them in the frigid air. His capitulation came out as nearly a groan when Rodney sighed and removed his arm. He swore John practically bounced past him as he entered the cabin.
> 
> "Nice place," John said, sliding into the kitchen area like he owned it, quickly unloading and placing groceries in their proper places with only a cursory need to open and close cabinets at random. Rodney watched him like he was a bottle of whiskey and Rodney was the alcoholic forbidden to touch.
> 
> "My dad built it over the course of many summers when we were quite small. We used to camp out here for what seemed like weeks at a time while he worked on it. It was miserable. We'd be eaten alive by the black flies during the day and the mosquitoes at night. When it was done, we used to come up for the summers and winter vacations." He left out the part where Rodney's father would escape to the cabin whenever possible.
> 
> "I'm guessing he didn't put in the huge satellite dish out back," John smirked as he placed the last of the groceries away and leaned on his hands on the counter between them.
> 
> "I need internet access if I'm going to work from here," Rodney said shortly.
> 
> "Rodney..." John began but the two-note drawl made Rodney draw into himself suddenly.
> 
> "I don't want to talk about it."
> 
> "Okay." John looked momentarily at a loss and then he smiled his lazy smile. "So, you've explained the satellite. What about the hot tub?"
> 
> _How the hell_...the man had been there less than five minutes and he'd already spotted the hot tub on the way in. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," Rodney huffed. "I had the money, it was a good investment."
> 
> "I have the money too," John straightened, only to lean backwards to rest his hips on the opposite counter. "It's amazing how much money you can save when you don't spend any of your paycheck for years at a time."
> 
> Rodney involuntarily glanced over his shoulder, as though he could see the sporty little Jeep with all its equipment parked outside. When he looked back, John was grinning again. "I bet you haven't even used it."
> 
> "I'll have you know; maintaining a hot tub in this environment is not all that easy. It takes days to bring the water to the right temperature and you have to keep testing it to make sure it's not growing all kinds of nasty germs and then there's the whole problem of how to..."
> 
> "Yep," John cut him off. "That's what I thought. It's okay. We'll break it in tonight."
> 
> "I don't have a suit," Rodney blurted.
> 
> John laughed out loud, his donkey laugh, the one Rodney hadn't heard in months. "Rodney, for crying out loud, you're in a cabin in the middle of nowhere in your own hot tub. You don't _need_ a suit."
> 
> Rodney felt his face turning red but then a laugh escaped him as well and suddenly after that, it seemed easier.
> 
> He showed John around, watched without speaking as he stowed his duffle in the spare room, the action acknowledging without words that John was not going to push the limited boundaries of his welcome. Rodney explained the original floor plans and the modifications he'd made since his arrival. He spoke of things in the distant past, of skating with Jeannie and the disastrous time his father had tried to take him hunting. He heard for the first time in these stories that his resentment at being here then was not for the place itself, but for the isolation from his beloved library, his projects, his weekly dose of Doctor Who. Funny how it was here that he came when he sought isolation, and then he brought the means to connect him with the outside world on his terms.
> 
> He cautioned John that the stove was an ancient, temperamental thing that he meant to replace at the earliest convenience, it was on his ever-growing, important master-list, and then watched as John fired it up effortlessly.
> 
> "I'm good at handling Ancient things, remember?" John quipped before hauling out a Dutch oven and throwing together the makings of a mouthwatering beef stew. It was the only time either one of them even obliquely mentioned Atlantis.
> 
> He watched as John puttered around the kitchen, having changed into a ragged, cream colored cable knit sweater and jeans, setting up the stew to simmer overnight so it would be ready for the next day, ignoring or forgetting the fact he was supposed to be leaving in the morning. John let him choose what to have for dinner that night, putting Rodney in charge of making the mac and cheese while he tended to the steaks and made the salad. Rodney tried not to think about the fact that the cabin would now be haunted by images of John after he left.
> 
> After dinner, when Rodney sat half-dozing on the couch, replete with warm food and toasting his sock-feet in front of a blazing fire, John suddenly stood up, yawning. He set his whiskey and soda down on the end table, stretching until his back arched and his sweater rode up, exposing a strip of skin over his belly and the dark trail of hair that led down into his jeans.
> 
> "I'm going to go check out the hot tub, you in?" He smiled over his shoulder at Rodney, looking impossibly seductive.
> 
> "I'm comfortable here, thanks." Rodney said shortly, lifting his glass in a mock salute.
> 
> "Your loss." John stripped off his sweater and dropped it on the couch beside Rodney. He balanced easily on each foot as he peeled off his socks as well, dropping them like a trail of bread crumbs as he moved towards the front door. Rodney found himself turning in his seat to watch John's progress as he continued stripping off clothes, heard the sound of the zipper and stared as John paused at the door to shimmy the jeans down over his hips, bending over and giving Rodney a lovely view of his ass as he pulled each pant leg off over his foot. He left the jeans in a puddle and door open as he stepped out into the night.
> 
> "_Fuck_," Rodney hissed, getting to his feet and padding quickly over to the door. At the end of the porch, John had lifted the cover over the tub, revealing an illuminating bright light and steam rising over bubbling water. The glowing steam seemed to surround John's body in a nimbus of light as he moved towards the edge of the tub, seemingly oblivious to the cold. As Rodney watched, John stepped carefully into the water, releasing an audible sigh of contentment as he eased down into its embrace, sliding down beneath the surface until only the dark shock of his hair remained visible at the edge of the tub. Then his arms came out, glistening with water and steaming in the cold air as he braced them against the sides of the hot tub and made himself comfortable.
> 
> Rodney must have made some small sound, or maybe Sheppard really did have eyes in the back of his head, because he called out over his shoulder, "Bring me my drink, will ya?"
> 
> He looked up with a smile as Rodney leaned down and pressed the cold glass into his hand. "Hmmm. Thanks," he said appreciatively, as he took a long sip, tipping his head back to reveal the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, a bead of either water or sweat trickling down the side of his neck.
> 
> Rodney shed his clothes as quickly as possible and then winced his way over to the other side of the tub, shrinking down on himself with the cold and fearing the possibility of splinters from the treacherous deck. He caught the sides of the tub with his hands and lowered himself into the water with an 'oh god' before he slid up to his neck in the almost orgasmic warmth of the water. He didn't realize his eyes were closed until he opened them and saw John watching him with an almost predatory gleam in his eye.
> 
> John took another sip of his drink.
> 
> "This was a good idea," Rodney conceded.
> 
> "Yep." John set his drink down, sprawling his arms wide along the edges of the tub, looking for all the world like an open invitation, a Sheppard buffet laid out solely for Rodney's pleasure.
> 
> Rodney felt his eyes narrow as he sipped his own drink. "You had no intention of telling me you got lost on the way up here, did you?"
> 
> "Wild Genii couldn't drag it out of me," John admitted. It was hard to tell because of the heated water, but Rodney thought maybe John looked a little flushed. "But I was helpless against the force of your determination not to let me in."
> 
> Emboldened by the heat and the drink inside him, Rodney said shortly, "I _don't_ want you here. I don't want you stalking about the place, bored out of your mind because there is nothing dangerous here, nothing that challenges you here. I don't want you to get bored with _me_."
> 
> "Rodney." John just shook his head and then eased slowly off the side of the tub, oozing down into the water like a crocodile and Rodney was the hapless swimmer about to get eaten. "We're in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. There's snowshoeing and skiing. There's skating and rockclimbing. Kayaking. Even fishing. There's wildlife and beauty and stillness and _you_. How could I get bored with that?"
> 
> He continued speaking until he was suddenly in Rodney's space, in between his legs which had inexplicably fallen apart to let John in, crawling up his body until one hand was bracing itself on the tub beside Rodney's head and the other was moving possessively over Rodney's thigh. Rodney tipped back in spite of himself, closing his eyes as John's hot, wet lips trailed across the moist skin of his neck. He moaned when John's cock bobbed up against his own in the water and actually cried out when John reached round and pulled Rodney's leg to wrap around him. Rodney closed his other leg willingly around John's thighs, feeling the strain in his muscles as John pushed forward against the floor of the tub with his toes. John continued to brace himself with one hand, holding Rodney up against him with the other as he began to thrust his hips with small movements. Rodney reached down between them and grabbed hold of their cocks, catching John's mouth as he did so. The warm slide of tongue against tongue, coupled with pumping rhythm Rodney had finally managed to achieve between them and the heat bubbling around the two of them brought things to a climax quickly. John came first, shuddering into Rodney's mouth and bringing a hand up to brush the side of his face when it was over. Rodney actually whited out a moment when his orgasm rolled over him, releasing tension that he did not know he had built up inside of him, and pumping it out endlessly against John's solid weight. He was in danger of sinking below the surface of the tub when he heard John chuckle and felt himself being hauled up by one hand under his arm.
> 
> "As good as this was," John said, his hands sliding to get a better grip on Rodney's slick skin, "maybe we should take this indoors."
> 
> Rodney nodded and they stood, carefully stepping out of the tub and onto the deck. His overheated skin took a moment to register the temperature change but then he yelped and hurried into the house, John following behind him, flinging water and laughing as he came.
> 
> Later, during the night, when Rodney allowed his hands to trail lazily over John's body while thinking _warm, warm, warm_, Rodney's fingers came to a standstill over John's chest. They curled uncertainly into the crisp hair there.
> 
> "What?" John's voice was sleepy, content.
> 
> "You aren't wearing dog tags," Rodney said sharply, just now making the connection.
> 
> John placed a hand on Rodney's back, tracing lazy, nonsensical patterns on his skin. "I retired," he said at last.
> 
> "You _what_?" Rodney pushed himself up on one elbow, incidentally knocking John in the ribs as he did so.
> 
> John sighed. "I retired, Rodney."
> 
> "But...but...but _why_?" Rodney sputtered. "You had just gotten promoted and everything!"
> 
> John's smile was visible in the clear, clean light of the moon that streamed in from the bedroom window.
> 
> "That was just to placate me, and you know it, Rodney." John sighed again. "Move me up through the ranks, shift me off to someplace where I couldn't raise a stink."
> 
> "But you could have been assigned to the new expedition. They would have _wanted_ you."
> 
> "No, they didn't." Rodney could hear the disappointment as well as resentment and an odd satisfaction in John's words. "They wanted someone younger for that assignment."
> 
> Rodney snorted. "You mean wet behind the ears."
> 
> John's fingers trailed along his earlobe and Rodney jerked his head away. "Stop trying to distract me."
> 
> John sighed again. "They didn't want me and I certainly wouldn't have gone without you and Ronon and Teyla to back me up." He turned his head to look at Rodney intently. "Did you think this thing between us only worked one way?"
> 
> "I don't know what you mean," Rodney said in a small voice, glancing down at his hand on John's chest.
> 
> John brought his other hand across his chest to close his fingers over Rodney's. "If I'd been recalled to Earth without warning, wouldn't you have left Pegasus as well?"
> 
> "Well, that's different," Rodney explained in his usual superior fashion. "I mean, without you there, the chances of my survival decreased dramatically. I know; I ran the stats. So realistically speaking, my staying on in Atlantis after your departure for any reason would have been suicide on my part."
> 
> "Uh-huh," John said, totally unconvinced. "Well, you'd better run those stats again, because I'm pretty sure you forgot to include the Canadian wilderness as data points."
> 
> "Holy crap, you may be right." Rodney turned so that he could lie back down beside John, still facing him, his hand still in John's light clasp. A few long moments passed and the Rodney said softly, "I...that is...we...well, we just lost so much."
> 
> John squeezed his hand. "Maybe for now, for the time being. But don't worry, McKay. I have a _plan_."
> 
> In the past, those words had been known to fill Rodney with terror. They shouldn't have filled him with such unholy glee now, but they did.
> 
> ~fin~


End file.
